Friday, December 12, 2008

A High Note

First of all, I just want to say my nephew is ADORABLE! Looking at his face. Had to say it. Nope. Haven't met him in person yet. Hopefully by March. I just wanted to say he's adorable and no, I'm sorry. I can't post his picture because while he is mine, he's not mine mine, you know?

I digress.

One week before my birthday - last night - I gave myself the gift of humiliation. Humiliation, once you have it, can make it easier to do something again because really, everyone already saw it so what's the mystery now?

"It" is me. Singing. Karaoke. With 2 co-workers in a contest at the office holiday party. Ok, singing isn't the best word. Nervousness had all 3 of us deciding to imbibe a bit, except I'm not a drinker so I sipped the one drink I had. Plus, it was only last week that I practically had no voice due to sinus issues. That + alcohol + nerves = 3 people singing You Can Ring My Bell in all sorts of keys. Not sure any of them were in the order they should have been.

We've discussed this before. I love to sing. Doesn't mean I'm good at it but I'm not horrible either. Of course, on a microphone, I learned that my voice sounds like someone is throwing it and it's hard to find your lost key when you don't even recognize the sound coming from your own mouth.

Nevertheless, there are some things in life that I need to do because it's part of who I am and it's not fair to bottle it up forever. Singing was one of them, whether it's karaoke or in the church choir, which I still need to do. Karaoke, at least, has the bar set really low and you have a shot at not disappointing too many people since they don't expect much anyway. After all, if I were like Whitney, I wouldn't be here blogging.

When they announced the contest, I immediately openly denounced it. "Are you doing it?" "No way!" But secretly I knew it was my chance to put that fear to rest, or at least have it take a nap for awhile. An innocent discussion with one of my departmental co-worker friends turned into her saying, "We should do it Monica!" Oh Lord. What have I gotten myself into? Next thing I know, we're convincing one of the guys to sing with us because we knew he'd be unexpected (I don't typically hang with him but I have nothing against him.) and he'd be comic relief, taking the attention from our nerves. He said yes immediately.

Then he said no. What the heck?

His departmental co-workers, he said, gave him such a hard time, next thing I know, my friend is telling me he's IMing that he's out.

So now I'm REALLY locked in while we talk him back in. After we rehearsed together a couple of times, we were laughing so hard, he was completely comfortable once again and raring to go.

Then the night came.

And he backed out again. Come on!

I won't tell you why. It will make this 6 foot something, hulking Russian guy look like a baby. But our 3rd partner came to rescue and got him back in again.

The rumors were flying. Everyone expected the Editorial chicks to do something. After all, we'd been playing "Put a Ring On It" out loud for about 2 days before the party. Playing. Singing. Dancing. Who was going to be Beyonce? That was the question. But we had no desire to humiliate ourselves THAT much.

All three of us ended up at different tables for dinner and the DJ said he wanted at least one rep from every table to sing. No one ran to the mic. So who serenaded us for awhile while we got our guts together? American Idol 5th season contestant Kevin Covais. He's 19 and adorable. He also has diabetes, thus the connection.

Still, no takers so we manned up. The Russian donned the feather boas and took the tiny bell that was drowned out by his deep voice and we had fun. Everyone else did too. People say we were brave. I guess. I only know I had something to prove to myself.

On the way home, I tried to figure out how I talked myself into this thing in the first place. What could have given me the courage? Alcohol? Naw. It's wasn't even a whole drink, though Mr. T. says I get tipsy off one. The prize money? Well, it was an incentive. Me getting ever older and less concerned about what others think? Could be. Was it that I'm working with a great group of people that I can genuinely work hard with and play hard with too? That's a possibility as well. In the end I decided I was just happy. Happy to be so blessed doing what I love, with people I respect. Living a life of purpose with a family that endlessly entertains me. I'm content. So maybe this was me showing that.

I'm glad I sorta conquered this nagging fear. It was worth it.

And yes, we won.

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